*The Verge of War* A Medieval Rp

( Herja got bit in the shoulder by your darned horse. She got her real good too, it's gonna probably need stitches. Right now a very sweet chambermaid? Has given her permission to sleep in the stable and brought her some leftovers( much obliged) so she will sleep till morning. Who knows, someone might stumble on her asleep? She did cool your horse down though, but she didn't like it. For her own good, you know. When a horse has worked really hard and eats and drinks too fast afterwards, they can potentially colic and die. I've personally seen it happen! Herja was tired and India got a shot in at the end during cool down. )
 
"And I suppose that's good and all. But, does the king expect to keep you tied to his side forever?" Richard asked, half joking
"Well, I suppose he'll keep on allowing me to be his advisor since I've caused no problems, and so far nobody else seems interested in the job." She shrugged.
 
"Well, I suppose he'll keep on allowing me to be his advisor since I've caused no problems, and so far nobody else seems interested in the job." She shrugged.
Richard nodded in acknowledgment of her reply. "Sounds like a job many people would be begging for," he stated. "Advisor of the king seems about as high as one can among the royals," he scoffed.
 
Alfric's head jerked up, his breath catching in his throat. He screwed up his eyes to protect them from the brightness of the hall. How much of that night had he dreamt? He tried picking it apart in his mind, but it only served to confuse him further. Letting out a long sigh, he allowed himself to relax again. Only for a moment... How long had it been since he was in Edinburgh? Playing with wooden swords- no, steel now. The ball was grotesque. Too bright, too loud, too stuffed full of royals playing dress up. But then again, is not that what they do all the time? Tonight a princess may be taken for a common serving girl, but every other night thereafter, no such mistake would be made. And who does the serving girl become once her mask is removed? How long since he last lay cozied up in his cot? The fire was warm, it felt nice against his sticky skin, forcing the cold from his body. The maids were nice enough, some were nicer than others.
His head jerked up again, eyes searching. The room was blurry, the voices washing over him like waves. He shivered, goose bumps prickling up beneath his damp clothes.
 

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